One Day You'll Understand (and One Day Arthur Does)
by Wolf-of-dragon13
Summary: "One day you will learn, Arthur. One day you will understand…just how much they've done for you." In which, after Merlin goes back to divert Agravaine in the tunnels, Arthur remembers, and turns back too. SLASH, MERTHUR, LANGUAGE


_WARNINGS: SLASH, pretty much follows the plot, except for the Gwen part, and the Lancelot part, and the Arthur proposing to Gwen part…ANGST, perhaps some fluff? Oh, and, maybe some OOC? I dunno…  
A/n: Please forgive any grammatical/spelling errors, for I haven't slept in over 36 hours, and the program I wrote this story in is crap and doesn't have spell check, and I'm not perfect. _

_And, oh holy bloody fuck, I haven't written fanfiction in sodding AGES. I feel terrible about that, too, because I know there are stories that I need to be working on that I know people are waiting for, and have been waiting for for a long time, but, well, I've been so distracted with my original works (I've even got a book published with a second one in the works) and I hadn't been at all inspired to write fanfiction until the other day when this just sort of smacked in the face with the flat of Arthur's sword._

* * *

_One Day You Will Understand (and One Day Arthur Does)_

"Don't let anyone tell you what to do. You said you are your own man. You have a good heart. Be true to it. Only then will you be the king you want to be."

That's what Gwen had told him, weeks, _months_, before, as he'd walked out of her house, after he'd told her he could not be with her. And really, Arthur _had_ made that choice of his own volition. Agravaine's words had merely spurred him into action. And then, with the rush of impending battle, and everything else, Gwen's words had been swept from his mind briefly.

But it was Merlin who'd made Arthur's heart stop in his chest when he'd been forced to his knees in Annis's tent, a sheepish smile on his face, concern burning in his brilliant blue eyes. Annis's words _kill him_ that had Arthur's blood running cold, because, _Gods_, Arthur couldn't...

"Wait. Please, let him go. He's just a...simple-minded fool."

And Arthur didn't know how to describe the relief that sailed through him when Annis had allowed Merlin to go free. He didn't know how to describe the joy that filled him when Merlin called him friend, said he'd been looking out for him. But, and this is part of what bloody well terrified Arthur, he couldn't bear to see Merlin risk his life like that.

"I appreciate that, in your very confused way, you're only trying to help. But, please, don't do it again." Arthur said gruffly, struggling heartily to keep the pleading and fear from his voice.

Arthur doesn't even allow the thought of one of his men stepping onto the field for the single combat Annis had agreed to. It was his wrong to right, he knew that, and he was going to right it even if it killed him. He deliberately avoided Merlin's gaze when he'd revealed who would fight. He knew, without a doubt, that if Merlin asked him not to fight, he wouldn't. But, well, he also knew that Merlin _wouldn't_ ask that of him, because Merlin just _knew_. He understood in a way that sometimes scared Arthur, but mostly just relieved him, lifted a weight from his shoulders he hadn't ever realized he'd been carrying.

The day of the fight, with Merlin helping him into his armor, Arthur mulls over words in his heads. Words he wants to speak, but doesn't know if he has the courage to. And then he's pulled off his glove and yanked his ring from his finger. He faintly wonders what it is he's doing as he turns to Merlin.

"If this day should prove to me my last..." Arthur says as places the ring in Merlin's opened hand. He nearly chokes on his words, and hasn't even finished his sentence fully when Merlin looks up at him sharply and opens his mouth.

"Give this to Guinevere," Merlin murmurs. His eyes are downcast, and Arthur wants to scream and shake Merlin's shoulders in agonized frustration. "Of course."

Arthur turns away and pulls the glove back on. And then he'd fought, and nearly died, and still won, somehow, and was back in Camelot. His chest was aching, though, for all appearances, he looked fine. He acted fine, too, because it wouldn't do to worry those who cared for him, few as they were. And he's thinking, about how he'd felt his heart stop in his chest in the Valley of Fallen Kings, because Merlin was _hurt_.

Then, Arthur was practically carrying Merlin, trying to find safety. And then he's pulling his gloves off and peeling back the tunic to check Merlin's wound, and Merlin's giving him this look Arthur can't quite decipher. It unsettles him, a bit, as well as stirs something within him that's entirely inappropriate right then, so Arthur backs off and tries to comfort Merlin the best way he knows how.

But, somehow, that's turned into something _different_, but not, because it's them, really, and even if Arthur never says it, he knows, _hopes_, Merlin knows that he means what he said. Because, really, Merlin truly _is_ brave and loyal and Arthur is so fucking _grateful_ to have Merlin at his side.

And then, suddenly, he's not, because there's this giant pile of bloody _boulders_ falling into the path, separating them, trapping defenseless Merlin with those ruddy bandits, and Arthur can't help the scream of his manservant's name as the boulders block his view of Merlin's startlingly pale form, and by the time he's found a way to where Merlin was lying, he isn't fucking _there_, and Arthur doesn't know what to do.

He's stumbling upon his knights, distraught and terrified. As soon as he sees their crimson cloaks, though, he strengthens his resolve, and then they're back in Camelot, and Gauis is there, his eyebrows drawn in worry as he asks after Merlin, and it kills Arthur a bit. He dispatches a search party for Merlin, demands they scour every fucking god_forsaken_ inch of that forest. And, when he promises that they'll find Merlin, he's only trying to reassure himself a little.

And then, _then_ he's seated in the council chambers, and Sir Leon and his Uncle are standing there. Leon's face is apologetic when he says there's no sign of Merlin. But, _gods_, that just can't be right. Merlin has to be there, has to be _alive_, and then Agravaine's setting a scrap of Merlin's bloodied jacket on the map in front of Arthur, and Arthur's blood's gone cold.

Agravaine is saying something, telling him he's _sorry for the loss of such a loyal friend_ and Arthur just holds up his hand, unable to hear it, because he refuses to believe that Merlin's really gone.

And _of course_ Gwen is chasing him down the steps, subtly trying to change Arthur's mind, but she won't, and they both know that, so he doesn't see why she's bothering. His mind is too muddled with everything - the realization that there's a traitor, that blasted _insufferable_ George, who really is a good manservant, just _mortifyingly boring_, and Arthur just cannot sit around with his thumb up his arse, really, he cannot, because Merlin is still out there, and Arthur thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Merlin is the only person he can really trust right at that moment, and he's not even bloody there because there's a damned traitor in Camelot, and really, Arthur's at his wits end. So, no, Gwen will not be able to convince Arthur to stay with his thumb stuck up his arse, and he mounts his horse and rides off with Gwaine, secretly thankful that the insufferable knight will be with him to natter inanely.

Then, suddenly Arthur hears something as Gwaine's gushing something about Merlin that is so damn true, and it hurts Arthur that he can't openly admit that, but he can't thank about that because there's that _sound_ again, and he's hopping off his horse, his sword drawn, demanding whoever is there to declare themselves. And, then, this muddy _thing_ stumbles from the trees, stops, and gives this odd little chuckle, and Arthur's smile can't be stopped as he calls out Merlin's name.

He wasn't in the least bit concerned about the damn mud Merlin is caked in as he thrusts his sword into the earth and bound forward, drawing Merlin into this hug as he's exclaiming his relief to find Merlin alive. He can't give a damn about that mud, because Merlin is _safe_, and Arthur can't feel arsed about the fact that he'd been avoiding this kind of contact between himself and his manservant for _ages_. He's just to overjoyed.

But Merlin was acting strange. Er, well, stranger than usual. He'd been unnaturally perturbed that Gwen had brought Arthur his lunch, because Arthur had subtly hinted that Merlin needed the rest after what had happened, which he'd never actually revealed, much to Arthur's dismay. Because that wound... Merlin should have died, if not from the wound, then from infection, if he'd truly been wandering about the forest by himself. Someone had to have helped Merlin, had to have healed him, and Arthur desperately wanted to find them and give them a fucking _Lordship_.

And, well, as Arthur had been preparing for that knighting ceremony, Merlin had looked terrified when Arthur'd joked that Merlin could be the traitor. Because, gods, _Merlin_ the traitor? He knew better, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why Merlin looked so panicked. And, because he really just wanted to wipe that look of fear from Merlin's face, he'd told Merlin that he was the only person Arthur thought he could really trust.

Merlin still seemed off the next day, but Arthur put that down to him imagining things, because really, he'd had a very unsettling conversation with his uncle and he's still not really sure how to feel about it. And, well, he can't exactly tell Merlin about it, because Merlin certainly wouldn't be able to hide the hurt look if Arthur voiced suspicions about Gauis's loyalties, not that Arthur doubted them, but still...

Instead, as he undressed for his bath behind his changing screen, he rambled on distractedly, hoping that by the end of his little speech Merlin would have some words of advice. But then Arthur'd stepped out from behind the screen, starkers, and _gods above_ that was _not_ Merlin standing by the bathtub. Arthur panicked, covered himself, mortified, and stupidly told Gwen that she's _not Merlin_. And then an uncomfortable thought had crossed his mind after he'd retreated behind the changing screen, a pillow clutched to his groin, how he'd never actually gone starkers like that in front of Merlin before, and, well...

_Damn_.

Then Merlin'd disappeared. Gauis said he was in the tavern, but Arthur doubted that very much. He'd all ready been by the tavern, expecting that to be Gauis's answer when Arthur questioned him about Merlin's whereabouts, and had not found Merlin there. In fact, no one at the tavern had seen him in _months_. Funny, that, because Arthur recalls that Merlin seems to spend a suspicious amount of time in that blasted tavern, according to Gauis.

But the whole Merlin acting oddly thing is put from his mind, because, (and it really was quite amusing to hand Merlin over to George for lessons) there are more pressing matters. Agravaine had come in, and tried once again to poison Arthur against Gauis. Arthur was grateful Agravaine'd had the tact to suggest they speak in private, because Arthur wouldn't've blamed Merlin if he'd lost his temper.

And then Arthur'd found himself in the council chambers, trying not to flinch as Agravaine questioned Gauis. Or, rather, interrogated him. Questioned's too light a word to use for the way Agravaine spoke. Arthur still wasn't convinced Gauis was the traitor, because, really, _Gauis_? It was almost as absurd as Merlin being the traitor.

But, of _course_, Arthur is in the middle of a _bloody good dream_ when those damn warning bells sound, and he's jerked quite violently from the pleasantness of slumber. He's only allowed a moment of startled fear when he catches sight of Merlin hovering awkwardly near the bell before Arthur registers what exactly had awoken him, and he's up and out of the bed, his erection rapidly wilting as fear wriggles it's way through him.

Merlin is on his heels, and Arthur tries not to feel absolutely horrified when they arrive at Gauis's chambers to see the guards carelessly searching through the physician's things. And then Agravaine's saying that Gauis was seen fleeing the city, and his stomach drops to the floor, and he can feel Merlin's silent fury, telling Agravaine that that cannot be true, but then Sir Leon walks in and confirms that there's a white horse missing from the royal stables, and Arthur couldn't allow himself to look at Merlin, because then he'd do something incredibly stupid.

And Merlin's leaning against one of the column's in the council's chambers, his eyes wet with unshed tears that crushes Arthur. And then Agravaine's disappearing, and Merlin's practically shouting at him, the tears making Merlin's blue eyes unsettlingly brighter, and he's telling Arthur that Agravaine's made the whole thing up, that Gauis would never just leave like this, and, _fuck_, but Arthur knows that's true, but there's no proof supporting Merlin and just...

He doesn't let himself meet Merlin's eyes when he says Gauis has condemned himself and leaves Merlin standing alone and miserable in the council chambers. And, really, if Arthur had heard Gwen telling Merlin Arthur trusted Agravaine more than anyone, well, Arthur probably would have lost it quite spectacularly, because that was _so far from the truth_.

Then Gwaine and Agravaine are dragging Gauis up the castle steps, and he's demanding what's happened, and Gwaine's telling him Gauis had been abducted, and fuck but Arthur's heart soars to know that for a fact, to not have guilt gnawing at him because there really had been doubts. They manage to get Gauis back to his chambers, and then Gwen's there tending Gauis.

Agravaine is telling him that he'd misjudged Gauis, and Arthur fights not to tell his uncle _well, of course you did, you clotpole!_ and instead says they're lucky Merlin had found Gauis. Then Agravaine's words have Arthur's blood freezing in his veins.

"Indeed. If it hadn't been for the tenacity of your boy, Gauis would be dead."

And Arthur swallows thickly, keeping his features schooled. There was an intense sensation of feelings he couldn't allow himself to identify rushing through him, and Arthur calmly leaves Gaus's chambers, though what he really wants to do is sprint as far from everything as he can, because he's really starting to think that _he can't do this anymore_.

The next day, Arthur's back at the physician's chambers, saddling Merlin with chores because he doesn't know how else to handle his manservant right then, and then he's alone with Gauis, and he's so ashamed with himself. And, it really kills him to know that Gauis lies to him about just who abducted him, but Arthur doesn't press the issue. He just lets Gauis tell him what story he's come up with.

But then, because he just can't help it, Arthur asks Gauis about the day Agravaine'd interrogated him about the sorcerer, asks Gauis why he'd lied about knowing the sorcerer. And then Gauis is telling him that Uther had been beyond hope by the time the sorcerer had arrived, that Uther had been dying, and that the sorcerer had tried everything in his power. And something nags at Arthur, and he remembers that promise he'd made with the sorcerer, and really, the sorcerer had seemed so _earnest_ about it. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat.

Gauis sent Arthur a look charged with something Arthur couldn't quite indentitfy. "Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many more who believe in the world you are trying to create. One day you will learn, Arthur. One day you will understand...just how much they've done for you." Gauis tells him, and it unsettles Arthur greatly. Because, yeah, he _knows_, but at the same time, he doesn't. Not entirely, not _who_.

Then the next crisis comes along, and Arthur has to shake himself from that discussion, and tries to find a reasonable excuse why Merlin can't leave Camelot to go take care of villagers, even though Arthur _knows_ it's selfish of him to do so, but he can't quite shake this feeling, this _dread_ that something bad's going to happen. But Gauis's absolute faith in Merlin's capabilities reassures Arthur enough that he begrudgingly allows it.

He acts like he's pouting because Gwen leaves with them.

When two days pass, Arthur can't control the panic, because, they really _should have been back by now_. He makes plans to set out for the village of Longstead, because the panic is gnawing at him and he just bloody _knows_ something terrible has happened or will happen very, very soon. Then, they're headed to Longstead, and that feeling just gets _worse_.

It doesn't help the panic when they come across the scattered bodies of slave traders. Quite the opposite, actually; just makes it worse, a gnawing sort of feeling that's slowly gripping Arthur's heart in a vice.

Arthur's panic becomes almost unbearable when they reach Longstead, and _they're not there!_ And he resents Agravaine for sounding reasonable when he tells Arthur they can't go looking for them at _night_.

And that night, when Gauis comes in and tells Arthur there's this creature, a Lamia, out there in the woods, the creature that was responsible for the carnage they'd happened upon on their way to Longstead, Arthur's blood turns to ice.

The instant dawn breaks, Arthur's searching for the party, for _Merlin_, and his heart slams against his chest, and then he spots the tracks, six horses, and he follows the desperately. Then the tracks stop, and it's all Arthur can do not to hack Agravaine's head off with his sword when his uncle says they're wasting their time.

Agravaine is really pushing it, he really, truly is, when he suggests that they go back to Longstead. Arthur just growls something about them all being dead by morning and ignores Agravaine when he points out that they're _knights_. Because, yes, Arthur bloody _knows they're knights_, but, gods, Merlin is with them, and Arthur remembers almost losing Merlin weeks prior.

Then, _then_, Arthur finds a scrap of cloth he recognizes, because it's that part of that silly colored tunic Gwen was fond of wearing; she'd been wearing it all those months, _years_ ago when Arthur had first noticed her flirting with Merlin, and jealousy had crawled into his gut and made permanent residence there. He held the piece of cloth up triumphantly, tried not to tell Agravaine to stuff it, _the cabbage-head_, and turned to follow the trail.

And, when they find the beast, it's all ready attacking Merlin and Gwen, and Arthur really has reached his limit, and he stabs it with a spear, realizing a moment later that Gwen had stabbed the thing with a sword. Then she's launched into his arms, and Arthur's startled for a moment until Merlin makes a joke of the spectacle. Arthur can't stop himself from helping Merlin up, which is okay, that's not weird at all, because Merlin _is_ his friend.

When they're safely back in Camelot, he asks Gwen what happened, because Merlin won't say a _word_, just carries this wounded look around the knights, though he tries valiantly to hide it, and the knights shift their gazes guiltily. It drives Arthur absolutely _mad_, because he doesn't understand, but is afraid that he might know the cause, because _what the bloody fuck were they doing in that castle in the first place?_

Gwen recounts the tale, how they stumbled upon the Lamia, and how the knights had fallen under the creature's spell. She hesitates, but tells him of the knight's treatment towards her, and towards Merlin especially, how they'd verbally degraded him, their _friend_, and how they attacked each other, because _they were under the spell of an evil creature, Arthur._

Then Gwen gave him this knowing, sad look. "It's all right, Arthur, I know." And then she'd left, patting his left forearm gently, giving it a soft squeeze, just before Merlin stumbled in with Arthur's lunch. There's such a rush of affection, Arthur has to turn away from the sight before he does something he'll regret.

It's those memories that rush through Arthur as he doubles back through those caves after Merlin, because, fuck, Arthur can't lose him. It's all the words, and the confused thoughts, and the knowing looks from Gwen, and from Gauis, and the memory of that blush high on Merlin's cheeks when Arthur'd felt brave enough to do the whole step-out-from-behind-my-changing-screen-starkers again.

He freezes, though, because he can hear them, Agravaine and Merlin. His heart lurches into his throat.

"You have magic."

"I was born with it."

"So it's you. You're Emrys."

"That is what the druids call me."

"And you've been at court all this time, eh? At Arthur's side?" There's a dark chuckle. "How you've managed to deceive him. I am impressed, Merlin. Perhaps we are more alike than you think."

Arthur jerks at the sudden sounds of battle, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. And, _gods_, Arthur really had... He'd _known_, hadn't he? Just been too afraid to think it, to let himself believe, because it was so much easier not knowing, so much easier thinking his father was right.

Merlin appears around the corner, halting in his tracks when he sees Arthur, and his eyes are glassy with tears. He looks so utterly _wrecked_, and Arthur swiftly realizes that Merlin's just _killed to save him_, and that is so utterly...

"Arthur?"

"Merlin."

"Were you...worried about me?" There's this hopeful glint in his eyes, a giant mixture of different types of hope, but there's also wary fear, like he knows he shouldn't bother hoping because Arthur finally, _finally_ knew about his magic, and though he'd longed for that secret to be out in the open between them, Arthur had shown no inclination to ever accepting magic after Uther's death.

Arthur remembered, quite vividly, finding Merlin sitting out in the hall, waiting for him while Arthur mourned his father's death. _I didn't want you to feel that you were alone_, he'd murmured, and his eyes had been bloodshot, a bit glassy, like he'd been trying hard not to cry. He remembered Merlin, way back in the beginning, drinking from that stupid goblet, knowing it'd probably kill him. Remembered Merlin following blindly after him to take a final test to save Camelot after he'd shot that unicorn, the panic in Merlin's eyes when Arthur'd drank from that goblet. Remembered Merlin stubbornly following Arthur when he went after Morgause to fulfil her challenge, because he'd so desperately wanted to know more about his mother. And he remembered the words he'd spoken to Merlin after that, thanking Merlin for showing Arthur - _reminding_ him - that all magic was evil, and Arthur's heart broke right then, because he _knew_ he'd broken Merlin just a bit right then.

"You came back to look for me?"

And Arthur swallowed, and thought of Merlin's words to him on many different occasions, telling him that it was _his destiny to be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen_, and the utter belief and faith shining in Merlin's brilliant blue eyes.

"I couldn't bear to lose you." His voice was rough.

Merlin's eyes flared. "S-Sire?"

Arthur huffed, and took the few steps forward, and reached out for Merlin, pulling the younger man against his chest. "It... It _will_ be okay, Merlin," Arthur whispered against the shell of Merlin's adorably too-large ear. It was a promise Arthur could make, because he knew he could keep it, because _Merlin_ was worth keeping it. And, he remembered Gauis's words to him, when Arthur was squirming away from the knowledge of Merlin, the knowledge that not all magic was bad, that there'd really been no hope for Uther.

_"Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many more who believe in the world you are trying to create. One day you will learn, Arthur. One day you will understand...just how much they've done for you." _

Merlin went lax in his embrace, his face pressed against the curve of Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur could feel the tears soak into his tunic. He pulled Merlin closer, held him tighter, the fingers of his left hand delving into the soft hair on the back of Merlin's head, and his right arm clutched about Merlin's waist, his hand pressing comfortingly against Merlin's lower back.

"Thank you," Arthur whispered, because he feels he must, because it's all he can give Merlin at that moment. And Merlin choked, his arms wrapped around Arthur's neck and waist, clinging to Arthur like he was the only thing in the world keeping Merlin there at that moment.

There's guilt, and overwhelming sorrow, pressed down on Merlin's shoulders. Arthur can feel it, and he hates himself for it, because he hadn't protected Merlin. He'd left Merlin to drown so that he could wallow in his own self-pity, and then in his own denial, because he'd been terrified of what he knew and felt.

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, longingly, forlornly. "Merlin, we need to keep going."

Merlin whimpered, pressing closer to Arthur. "_Arthur, please,_" he whispered, the sound broken.

Arthur swallowed back tears, and tried not to wince at the whimper of loss when he drew back. He kept his hand in Merlin's hair, his other one coming up to cup Merlin's jaw. He knew what Merlin needed, right then, because it was plain in his voice, and the way he looked so wrecked and vulnerable. Arthur drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"It's going to be okay, Merlin." Arthur whispered into the space between them. "I _know_, Merlin. I promise you, you'll never again have to live in fear."

Merlin's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth dropping open just a bit, because it was still something wonderful to hear those words, even if he'd known just before Arthur said them that he was safe, and always would be safe.

"I'll protect you," Arthur promised, and pressed his forehead to Merlin's. Merlin's eyes snapped open, flared wide, and Arthur knew that Merlin was _not_ expecting this. Arthur swallowed thickly against the unease he felt at making himself so vulnerable. "Just, promise me, Merlin, that you'll never lie to me again?"

"I p-promise, Arthur," Merlin stuttered. His cheeks were tinged pink, and Arthur couldn't resist the urge to smooth his thumb across the sharp cheekbone. Merlin sucked in a strangled gasp. There was a silent plea in Merlin's eyes, a wary hope that maybe he wasn't imagining this added comfort, this added and decidedly non-platonic affection.

Arthur smiled, softly, and lifted his head. He pressed his lips to Merlin's forehead chastely, a promise of sorts, and pulled Merlin in for one last hug before he ushered them back towards Gwen, Isolde, and Tristan.

And, after they'd managed to regain Camelot, after Merlin had restored Arthur's confidence in his ability to lead the people of Camelot with that sword in the stone bit, well, Arthur kept his promise. Well, his promises, but those had been made upon another occasion with Arthur's lips pressing reverent kisses to Merlin's, but the most important one he'd kept, and taken care of first. Merlin didn't have to live in fear for being a warlock.

Though, on a side not, he did need to live in fear of Arthur's pent-up sexual tension/frustration from years of watching Merlin polish Arthur's sword, and, well, erm, Merlin didn't _quite_ fear that bit, actually. He rather enjoyed it. A lot.

/_fin_/


End file.
